


A Glimmer Of Hope

by 5her1ock



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Angst, Depression, Drug Addiction, Episode: s04e02 The Lying Detective, Friends Protect People, Friendship, Hope, Hopeful Ending, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mental Health Issues, POV Sherlock Holmes, References to Depression, Sherlock Holmes & John Watson Friendship, Sherlock Holmes is a Bit Not Good, Sherlock is not alone, Spoilers, sherlock will be okay, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-12
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 03:14:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25856470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/5her1ock/pseuds/5her1ock
Summary: **Trigger Warning** Do not read if you think you may be triggered by topics listed in the tags for this work, such drug addiction, depression, suicidal ideation and self-harm. If these are things you or someone you know are currently struggling with, there are many resources available, and it is a sign of bravery for those who need them to utilize them.Summary:I wrote this for two reasons. The first is that this is a little bit how I imagined this episode might go the first time I watched it (perhaps from reading too much fanfiction). Secondly, I wanted to end this fic with a message of hope. A message that everyone can be their own hero. And that, even if it's in a small way, it's perfectly okay to lean on others for support.
Kudos: 15





	A Glimmer Of Hope

**Author's Note:**

> I want to reiterate, please please don't read this if it's going to trigger you, that is the last thing I ever want to do with my writing. I care about my fellow humans, and it is extremely important to take care of one's own mental health. So please self-monitor while you read, and if you're reading this while you're supposed to be sleeping, go to sleep instead. Adequate sleep is important! Wishing you all the best! :D

Your life is not your own, keep your hands off it. Off it.

These were the exact words Sherlock had spoken to Faith Smith earlier on that evening. He knew how she felt. He had been there before, those were the same words Mycroft had spoken to him that night. The night they established the List.

He felt himself falling again, maybe it was all the chemicals in his system, maybe it was something else. 

He lay on the couch, too tired to do anything else. Even escaping to his mind palace was too much effort. He closed his eyes, letting his arm dangle off the sofa, his sleeve catching on a cushion and riding up his arm. He mustered the effort to pull it back up to his chest, and studied the bare skin of his forearm. 

It was not detective work, but rather experience that had allowed Sherlock to know exactly what Faith was hiding. He knew the desperation, the hunger, the need to feel. His eyes traced the faded lines, echos that only he knew how to find. 

He was better now. Knew how to cope. Still didn’t know how to avoid the fall though. It was like sinking deeper and deeper into a pit. He was in control of his mind and his actions, but his emotions seemed to be taking a vacation. If tired was a state of being, this was it. 

As much as he hated it, he knew he had to wait this out. He’d been here before too. The first time had seemed endless, like the world had continued moving without him. He felt helpless. Alone. After that time passed, and he began to no longer feel separate from himself, he had learned that the fog was only temporary. 

Not every day was a good day. The feelings of darkness, of emptiness, of loneliness, of self hatred and addictive hunger plagued him from time to time. Sometimes for far longer than he’d like. But he held on. For John. For Mycroft. For Molly. For Lestrade. For Mrs. Hudson.

Because he knew he was loved. And those who loved him most were there for him during his most difficult moments. And sure, John was pissed off at him at the moment, but he knew it too was only temporary. 

Sure, when he scanned the room, his brain was drawn to every object with a point. But he was stronger than that. He knew he had power over his own mind, but more importantly he knew that what he thinks does not reflect the person that he is. 

He also knew that although he didn’t particularly like himself in this moment, that didn’t mean he couldn’t learn to like himself. He wanted to. He wanted to love himself the way those around him loved him. He had been working on it, but he was still learning. 

Sherlock was aware he was complicated, but one thing he knew for certain is that he was not broken. He was not shattered. Despite the claims of his nemesis, his big brother and all the king’s men certainly could help put Sherlock back together again. Because his brother, and his friends, were there for him. He was not beyond repair. Not this time. Not ever. 

And so he rolled on his side, facing the backrest of the sofa. Sure he was exhausted, sure he was down. But he was not defeated. He would get back up again. He would survive. He would keep fighting. For John. For Mary. For Mycroft. For himself.


End file.
